At Dragonstone, Stannis sat before the sand table in the council chamber, staring at the map of Westeros laid out before him. Various flags were planted across it, but his face remained expressionless.
Around him, the lords loyal to Stannis were silent. Their hearts were heavy with despair, for they knew their liege had no chance of victory. In the near future, they could well face the loss of their lands—or worse, exile.
"Woman, you once said I am the reincarnation of Azor Ahain, wielder of the Lightbringer, destined to lead humanity against the White Walkers as a savior." Stannis turned to the calm lisandre beside him. "Now tell —how exactly am I to lead mankind against the White Walkers? Or was your so-called prophecy from the Lord of Light a lie from the start?"
As soon as Stannis finished speaking, all eyes in the room turned to lisandre. Apart from a handful who followed the Lord of Light, the rest were all devout adherents of the Faith of the Seven.
lisandre had previously used her faith as justification for many actions that angered others—burning those who refused to convert, persuading Stannis not to ally with Renly or Robb Stark. Though none of these directly led to defeat in war, the lords now needed soone to bla. And lisandre made an easy target.
Yet faced with their questions, lisandre remained composed. She turned to Stannis and said, "Your Grace, you have not lost. This is not the end. It is only the beginning. A turning point foretold in the Lord of Light's vision is fast approaching. I ask only that you remain calm and wait."
Monford Velaryon, Count of Driftmark, had survived the Battle of King's Landing by sheer luck. But his face had been slashed by an enemy's sword, and his once-handso features were now twisted and scarred.
A devout follower of the Seven, Monford did not hesitate to confront lisandre. "Calmly wait? That's easy for you to say, witch. We don't even have enough food to et our daily needs. How are we supposed to wait calmly?"
"There's no need to worry about supplies," lisandre said with a smile. "More than ten days ago, I asked the High Priest of the Red Temple in Volantis to help procure a large shipnt of grain from the Kingdom of Lorne. It's being transported by ship and should be arriving today. So, there's no need for concern."
Almost as she finished speaking, a guard from the Dragonstone lighthouse burst into the room to report to Stannis that a large fleet was approaching—ships flying the banner of Volantis.
Everyone in the room instinctively turned to look at lisandre. She had been in the council chamber all morning, just like the rest of them. There was no way she could have known the fleet's precise location.
And yet, just as she ntioned the arrival of the food, the fleet had appeared in the waters visible from the lighthouse. It was hard not to suspect so mysterious magic or sorcery at work.
"It's rely a coincidence," lisandre said, preemptively denying any supernatural involvent. She looked around at the others. "This shipnt will be enough to sustain us for a month. All we need to do is wait for the shift in fate to arrive."
Davos, the Onion Knight, was clearly the one most displeased with lisandre. He pressed her imdiately. "A shift? What shift? When exactly is it supposed to happen?"
lisandre shook her head. "The visions of the gods are often vague. Even the chosen find it hard to grasp their full aning. All I know is that the change may co in a few days—or it might happen very soon. What we must do is wait patiently."
"Wait? I'm afraid I don't have ti for that," Stannis said grimly. "That bastard Tywin has granted Dragonstone and Storm's End to Lynd Tarran. Storm's End is already under his control. Dragonstone will be next." He turned to Guyard Morrigen. "Ser Guyard, I want to know—if Lynd Tarran attacks Dragonstone, whose side will you be on?"
Guyard Morrigen answered plainly. "Your Grace, please forgive —but if His Highness does attack Dragonstone, the Stormlands coalition will not take part. We will neither stand with Your Grace nor assist His Highness in attacking you."
"Traitors. You're all traitors!" soone imdiately shouted, pointing fingers at the Stormlands knights and nobles. But they remained silent, offering no rebuttal.
"Enough!" Stannis barked at his n. Then he turned to Guyard Morrigen. "The fact that you are honest with now, rather than betraying at the crucial mont, is sothing I respect. You are at least a man of loyalty and principle."
"Your Grace, if Lord Lynd truly cos..." Guyard began, sighing, ready to offer his counsel—when suddenly a roar rang out from outside. The next mont, shouts and cries of panic rose from the soldiers beyond the walls, as though sothing dreadful had arrived.
"A dragon! That's the cry of a dragon," Guyard was the first to react. "The prince is here."
Stannis imdiately stood and walked to the window. A massive shadow passed overhead. A great dragon—its scales pitch-black, veins glowing like molten lava—glided through the sky. It circled Dragonstone twice before descending onto the square outside the castle.
A look of tension crept onto Stannis's face. Lynd hadn't landed directly within the castle walls. He had chosen to stop just outside.
So he turned and glanced at the pale-faced nobles of Dragonstone, then at the Stormlands nobles, who remained calm, before shifting his gaze to lisandre.
"Do you still believe this so-called change you spoke of is coming?" he asked.
lisandre replied solemnly, "Yes. The change will co. You are destined to beco Azor Ahain, to wield the Lightbringer and fight the god Beyond the Wall in the na of the Lord of Light. This is the revelation He gave . It is prophecy, and prophecy does not change."
"To hell with your Lord of Light!" Stannis snapped, showing no rcy. He now saw lisandre as nothing more than a fraud. He turned to the others in the room and said, "Let's go. We're going to et Prince Lynd. Better to face him ourselves than have him break in to find us."
With that, he straightened his clothes, squared his shoulders, and strode out of the room. The others quickly followed. lisandre, despite the insult just thrown at her, showed no sign of anger—only a calm smile as she trailed behind the group toward the castle gates.
...
They soon arrived at the main gate of Dragonstone Castle. Stannis gave a direct order to open the gates.
"Your Grace, wait—don't open them yet. We should stay on the ramparts..." soone quickly interjected, trying to advise caution.
Stannis shook his head. "There's no need. If Lynd Tarran wants to enter the castle, one gate won't stop him. Standing on the walls will only make us look like cowards."
He then signaled to the guards to open the gates and walked out first. The Onion Knight followed close behind, and the others trailed after.
By then, Lynd had already dismounted from Neltharion and was standing at the edge of the square, watching the castle gate. When he saw Stannis step out of the gate on his own, a smile crossed his face.
"I'm glad to see you're safe, Lord Stannis," Lynd greeted him with a respectful bow as Stannis approached.
"Well, I'm not glad to see you, Lord Lynd," Stannis shot back coldly, glaring at him. "Didn't you say you wouldn't get involved in the Seven Kingdoms' civil war? What's this, then? Have you beco Tywin's dog now? He tosses you a bone, and here you are, ready to bite."
Lynd didn't rise to the insult. He smiled and said, "Lord Stannis, that kind of bitterness doesn't suit a man like you. It seems defeat has changed you more than I expected."
"Defeat? I haven't been defeated!" Stannis growled. "I still command tens of thousands of n—"
"Tens of thousands?" Lynd interrupted, looking around. "I don't see them." He turned to Guyard Morrigen and the Stormlands lords behind him. "Ser Guyard, do you plan to oppose ?"
"No, my lord," Guyard Morrigen replied quickly. "I've already told His Grace Stannis on behalf of the Stormlands alliance—if it cos to conflict with you, we ask to remain neutral."
"Hm. A convenient way to avoid offending either side," Lynd nodded. Then he turned to Salladhor Saan, the naval commander who now controlled the bulk of Stannis's fleet. "And what about you? Smuggler Salladhor?"
Salladhor Saan, originally from Lys, responded at once. "To have my na spoken by His Highness is already a great honor. How could I dare oppose you? I ask that I, too, be allowed to remain neutral."
"Salladhor, you bastard..." the Onion Knight scowled, clearly furious with his old friend for switching sides so easily.
Salladhor chuckled. "Davos, my old friend, when you invited , you said we'd be fighting the great lords of the Seven Kingdoms. You never ntioned fighting His Highness. I'm from Lys, and Lys is directly under the prince's rule. I'm his subject. How could I possibly go against him?"
Lynd then turned his attention to the other nobles from Driftmark and Crackclaw Point. They all quickly lowered their heads, avoiding his gaze.
Lynd's gaze swept over lisandre before returning to Stannis.
"My stance has always been clear—I won't get involved in the civil war. But I still respect the laws of the realm. Since Dragonstone has been granted to , I won't just leave it be."
Stannis gave a disdainful smile. "All just convenient excuses. By that logic, if I now grant you Casterly Rock in the Westerlands, would you march in and claim it?"
Lynd nodded without hesitation. "Of course I would—if you had won the battle of King's Landing and taken the Iron Throne."
Stannis's expression darkened further. Clearly, Lynd had struck a nerve. He had been so close to the Iron Throne—only a wall away. If he'd had just half a day more, he could have broken through the Red Keep and ended the bastard sitting on that throne. But fate hadn't been kind. He had fallen right at the finish line.
Lynd, seeing the shift in Stannis's expression, pressed on.
"Lord Stannis, I have a question. The answer will determine whether or not you're worthy of my friendship."
He paused briefly, giving Stannis a mont to compose himself, then asked in a calm but firm voice, "Tell —did you kill Renly Baratheon? Perhaps with the Shadowbinder's magic?"
As he spoke, his eyes moved to lisandre.
At those words, Stannis exploded in fury.
"Lynd Tarran, do you take for so kind of kinslayer? I may want the Iron Throne, but I'm not mad enough to murder Renly—let alone use so filthy witchcraft to do it. I would've taken Storm's End back with my own hands, as it rightfully belongs to , and locked Renly in his little room for the rest of his life to reflect on his actions."
"I can vouch for what His Grace said," Guyard Morrigen stepped forward. "Before Lord Renly was killed, His Grace had already contacted us. We planned to pledge our allegiance to him after Lord Renly's wedding. At that ti, Lord Renly would've been taken to Highgarden by House Tyrell—he wouldn't have been in any danger."
Hearing this, Lynd frowned. He trusted Guyard Morrigen not to lie. Stannis had already swayed the Stormlands coalition and had his eyes firmly set on Storm's End. There had been no reason to resort to assassination.
Killing Renly that way had only brought Stannis the stigma of kinslaying. It had cost him the very prize he was ready to claim—Storm's End. He'd been forced to hand over command of the army and leave, because if he had entered the castle at that mont, the accusations would've been impossible to refute.
Lynd considered this, then turned his gaze back to lisandre, suspecting she might have acted on her own.
lisandre seed to sense his thoughts and calmly said, "To summon a shadow assassin using the magic of a Shadowbinder, I need the blood of a king and the blood of royal lineage. Lord Stannis was unwilling to give a child—or even his blood. I couldn't do anything."
Stannis frowned and turned to her. "So that's what you were after that night..."
He didn't finish his sentence, but his face had gone pale.
Now certain that Renly's death hadn't co at Stannis's hands, Lynd gave a faint smile.
"Lord Stannis, I will be taking Dragonstone. But I'd rather not fight you. There are few n left who still hold to the law as you do. So I'll offer you a path forward—go to the Wall. Beco the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch."
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